A Spiral of Destruction
by insanities
Summary: Dylan-centric oneshot. She's like a broken glass vase now; too many broken pieces so it is impossible to put back together, the pieces too sharp and dangerous to even try. She was too deep into depression; it's impossible for her knight in shining armor to save her and put her back on her horse. Read and Review!


**a/n: Hello! This is a Dylan-centric one-shot, with Dylan/Chris at the end! Shout out to the amazing Natalie (xoxo starry-eyed) who edit this one-shot!**

**disclaimer: I do not own the clique. Read and Review!**

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_"If you don't receive love from the ones who are meant to love you, you will never stop looking for it." - Robert Goolrick_

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Dylan Marvil, just six years old ran over to her mother; her fiery red curls blowing behind her face. In her cubby little hands was a drawing, just a simple crayon sketch of two girls, one taller than the other, holding hands; their big smiles brightening the drawing.

"Look mommy! I drew us!" the six year old said, her voice laced with pride. She had spent her whole pre-school class just drawing the picture; making sure to choose the right colors, planning the whole picture before outlining her work with a bright blue crayon. She wanted her drawing perfect, just like the bond between her and her mother.

Her mother, on the other hand, took a quick glance at her daughter, not even noticing Dylan's masterpiece. "Good honey. Go back and play with your sisters. I'm busy right now." Merri-Lee scolded, shooing her daughter away. She didn't notice when her daughter stomped away, ripping her handiwork in half, breaking the bond between her and her mother.

::

On Dylan's seventh birthday, Dylan's hopes were set up too high. Instead of a birthday party with all her friends and family, she instead was given emptiness.

Dylan ran up to her mother, her eyes full of happiness, expecting her mother to say happy birthday when Merri-Lee called Dylan over. "Honey! I finally found you a babysitter, so I can finally work!" Merri-Lee said, oblivious to the fact that today was her daughter's birthday.

"Do you have anything else to say?" Dylan asked; her voice cracking a bit and tears filling up her eyes.

Merri-Lee thought for a while. Dylan secretly hoped that just maybe, her mother was just pretending about forgetting her birthday; that she is planning to surprise Dylan later. "Oh, yes actually! Remember to say 'Happy Birthday' to your friend, Alicia, today! She's what, seven now?" Dylan's happiness deflated; her mother remembered Alicia's birthday, but not hers.

At school, everyone remembered Alicia's birthday; telling her happy birthday when she walked down the halls. No one, not even her own mother, seemed to remember Dylan's birthday. The only person who ever said happy birthday was Chris Plovert, the only person who gave a damn about her. But his love never lasted, unlike Dylan's; he later moved on and began to ignore her. Of course, Dylan never told anyone that day it too was her birthday, after all silence is a girl's loudest scream.

::

December seemed to roll by swiftly. The more time has passed the more Dylan's relationship with everyone she knew seemed to dissipate. When Christmas came, the seven year old rushed downstairs in her flannel pajamas to the living room where Santa leaves presents for Dylan and her sisters.

Her sisters were already downstairs dressed in matching silk nightgowns, unwrapping their mountains of presents under their labeled stockings; red and green wrapping paper littered the mahogany floor. They were giggling and smile, obviously happy on what Santa has brought them.

When Dylan went to her stocking, in the far corner of the room, the seven year old's heart dropped. Expecting piles of presents, as big as her sisters' piles, there only lay one small present the size of a pillow, hastily and messily wrapped. Even Santa forgot about her. Nobody seemed to notice when Dylan threw away her unwrapped present in the trash; running back to her bedroom with tears streaming down her face. And every year, when she only gets the same small, messily wrapped present, she just runs back to her room, throwing away the unwrapped present in the trash.

::

Dylan knew that she's overweight; she always knew, but she never liked to be told that she's fat. It's a sore spot for her; she is always envious of skinny girls, how they can flaunt about their gorgeous figure. Unlike Dylan, who hides her rolls of fat with long turtlenecks and too tight jeans.

She was with her family, when their words started to tear down her barrier. It was Thanksgiving; Dylan and her family are sitting around the glass table, filling their plates up to the max. Her mother glanced at Dylan's plate, which was overfilled with high calorie food, her face forming a scowl.

"Dylan darling, are you sure you are going to eat all of that?" Merri-Lee asked carefully her voice full of disgust. The ten year old glanced at her plate. It was a normal serving in her eyes, if not less.

"Yeah. Why?" Dylan said, unknown what her mother was going to say later.

Merri-Lee hesitated for a moment. "Nothing, honey. It's just that I don't want to see my daughter overeating and gaining more weight than usual." Dylan's confidence completely crumpled, but she pretended to ignore her mother's comment.

On the outside, Dylan seems like she is the happiest girl in the world, but looks could fool. She had many insecurities-her only defense, humor, just hid that. No one could see behind her barrier with the naked eye.

::

It was the seventh grade school dance. Everyone had a date to the dance, everyone besides Dylan. _Understandable, _Dylan thought_, who on earth would go out with someone as fat as Dylan? Even Layme scored herself a date. _She watched her eight friends dancing together, looking carefree, and their eyes shining with happiness with her dull emerald green eyes; eyes that used to be full of life. The ninth wheel among her pool of friends. She always ignored that, but now, the truth sunk in.

She remembered what her friend, Massie, said, _"Poor little Dyl. Maybe if you lose weight, you wouldn't be the ninth wheel." _Feeling too much like an outsider, Dylan rushed to the toilet and stuck two fingers down her throat. Tears tracked down her cheeks as she threw up.

::

As the days pass by, the more Dylan separated herself from her group of friends. After the school dance, she stopped talking to Massie; she declined every invitation to the traditional Friday night sleepovers. Then Alicia; then Kristen and Claire. When Dylan walks down the school hallways, rumors about her are forming; it was a knife in the chest when those rumors were started by her old best friends.

She gave up anorexia and instead found herself a new hobby, starving herself. She enjoyed the pain in her empty stomach; it made her feel the pain of losing everyone, maybe even surpassing that pain. She started to lose the weight; the more skinner she got, the more she began to fade away into the shadows.

The pain was also from jealously; she was jealous that everyone had the perfect life, while she had the fucked up one. She was envious of her friends; with their perfect bodies, sparkling eyes, and silky hair. Why couldn't she have that perfect life?

The more Dylan blended in the shadows, the more time she spent in her room. One day, on Valentine's Day, Dylan finally cracked and cried. It wasn't the short period of tears falling out of her eyes, it was full out bawling; it was the kind where she couldn't stop. She wasn't crying because she was weak; she was crying because she've been strong enough to patch up her barrier for too long. Her barrier has finally broke, her pain left a big gaping hole that couldn't be fixed.

::

She reached a new low- lower than starving herself; something she thought wasn't possible, since she thought she's already down in a ditch. She made a new friend, it helped her with her problems; it kept her feet firm to the ground. The good old razor.

Every problem she had, she relies on it to move on. She locks herself in the bathroom stall, pulls the razor out, and make fresh cuts; one for each insecurity. Being too fat, one cut; not being loved by Chris, another cut. There was never a day where Dylan didn't cut. It was quite an addiction, she couldn't part from her new friend; the razor was the anchor to her ship. The pain is the only thing that tells Dylan that she's still alive.

Dylan's lonely; it's in some horribly deep way that it is too deep to resurface to take a breath. It scares Dylan to be this lonely, loneliness seems claustrophobic; she just wants to break the chains from her misery and get a fresh breath of air, something she never had in a while. The worst feeling isn't from being lonely; it's being forgotten by someone Dylan couldn't forget. All the people Dylan has known have forgotten about her, so why can't she forget them?

But Dylan's afraid; too afraid to become happy again. She learned the hard way; happiness always leads to tragedies. No wonder Romeo and Juliet never got their happy ending. Karma's a bitch, and to even the scale, misery has to happen after every happy moment. If Dylan was deep in an ocean of depression, where was her life tube to get her out of the water?

Dylan chocked back a sob, before taking the razor again, fascinated at her blood running from her fresh cuts.

::

She's like a broken glass vase now; too many broken pieces so it is impossible to put back together, the pieces too sharp and dangerous to even try. She was too deep into depression; it's impossible for her knight in shining armor to save her and put her back on her horse.

She was standing on top of a building, her feet slightly off the building. She was preparing to jump, after all. There is nothing left for Dylan to be happy again. She thought that her depression wouldn't last that long; that someone would sweep her off her feet and bring her happiness. But, that was just a dream, there is never a happily ever after to anything. She closed her eyes, preparing to fall, her body shaking from crying.

"Dylan! What the hell are you doing?" A frantic voice yelled from behind. Dylan turned around to find Chris, who was out of breath, his hand clamping on a note. _Dylan's suicide note_. It only contained two words: _I'm sorry_. How did he know that was from Dylan?

"Leaving this hellhole called life. Nothing matters anymore, and nobody seems to care." Dylan snapped, her eyes a murky green and lifeless.

"I do! Ever since we were six; when I always told you happy birthday, when I gave you Christmas presents every year since we were seven. I always cared. Just don't leave me. I'll catch you if you choose the right path." Chris said his eyes full of truth. Dylan froze; the presents are all from Chris? And she thought that it was from her mother, who had to find a gift hastily. He cared, and Dylan was too blind to see it. Dylan made her final choice and fell into Chris' arms.

Sobs shook her body as she cried into Chris' arms; he was trying to console her, running his hand through her fiery hair. A great life doesn't just happen; it is built by tragedies, pain, and sacrifice. Dylan never thought that no one would be able to put the pieces back together, but Chris was brave enough to break the chains and bring back the old Dylan. And she loved him for that.

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**a/n: Thanks for reading:))**


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